It’s been a great holiday season, and I’m determined to not let it pass me by in a blur. So before I forget, I wanted to post an update of last week’s events.
Friday night my roommate, Natalie, and I went to a Christmas party. Lucky for me, Santa gave me a smack on the butt and told me, “You’ve been a very good girl this year.”
Saturday was the annual Sound of Music sing-a-long event at the Tower Theatre. At this showing you are encouraged to dress up, sing along, cheer for Maria, hiss at the evil baroness, shake bells when the church bell rings, and pull party poppers when The Captain and Maria finally kiss. It was magical. Our group showed up in varying costumes from a nun, to a sheep herder, girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, Fredrick, brown paper packages tied up with strings, and Maria (from the do-re-mi scene, of course).
It was such a fun night and I fully intend on attending next year as a drop of golden sun.
Late Saturday it began to rain. And then sleet. And then freeze. Sunday morning when I tried to leave for church, I couldn’t pull my car away from the curb. So I gave up. And it continued to snow.
Monday morning I hoped that the slush was frozen, but not ice. That may not make sense to my non-Utah-winter friends, but there is a distinct difference between sheet ice and frozen snow/slush. Frozen snow is crunchy and has a rough texture that allows your car to move over it no problemo. Alas, it was not crunchy frozen snow/slush that I encountered Monday morning; It was slush over a blanket of ice. I revved my engine and turned my wheels. I tried to shovel down to the asphalt so my tires had something solid to propel themselves against. I reversed and rocked forward, I tried all the tricks i knew – but to no avail. After 35 minutes I was stuck against a curb in the middle of the street.
I finally asked Amy to help push me out. She threw boots on over her pajamas and stole salt from the bucket by our next-door-neighbor’s door – which resulted in the karmic retribution of getting locked out as I finally sped off. I couldn’t turn around on the street (terrified of getting stuck all over again) so I went down one street and looped around. As I passed my street, a yellow figure wildly jumped up and down and shouted. It was the squeal that finally caught my attention. There was Amy – sweating from running down the street to catch me, wearing pj bottoms, big boots, no makeup, half-done hair and a yellow coat, frantically waving a shovel in the air. This end to the stuck-in-the-middle-of-the-road drama put a hysterical spin on the morning and I laughed, instead of scowling and cursing winter as I pulled up to the office nearly an hour late.
So Santa, since I’ve been such a good girl this year (as referenced above) would you mind throwing a set of tires in my stocking?
